


Winter

by MorganBartonRomanoff



Series: Clintasha Advent 2020 [3]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Early Days, F/M, First Kiss, Pre-Relationship, Strike Team Delta (Marvel), Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganBartonRomanoff/pseuds/MorganBartonRomanoff
Summary: Day 3 ofClintasha Advent 2020- SeasonsThe year makes full circle. They keep going forward
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Series: Clintasha Advent 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049084
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	Winter

They meet in winter. The air smells distinctly of that indiscernible specific cold scent. The sharp wind of Budapest bites at his face unpleasantly, stabs into him like the knife she’s hiding up her sleeve, but she is warm and flushed, unbothered, vibrant, her burning hair contrasting the white snow like the blood dripping off her fingers.

She doesn’t get a chance to pounce first. Her wounds finally betray her, and she sways on her feet. He’s there to catch her, along with her knife to his shoulder. He grits his teeth, but still takes her to safety. Stands up for her. Takes responsibility for her.

It’s not going to be easy.

* * *

They let her out of the base in spring. It’s late May, but summer is yet to fully arrive. She feels like a caged animal, even when she is finally outside. She doesn’t like New York, she decides. The air stinks of fumes and body odours, people ignore personal space, and she is basically a prisoner there.

At least she’s not back in Russia, he kindly reminds her – because she can only go out with a supervisor. With a babysitter. She’s still a threat. They still don’t trust her. She could still betray them.

They’re right. But so is he. Anything is better than being back in Russia.

He takes her around town – the weather is nice, apparently, and so do about a million tourists think. She loses him at a corner as a wave of the crowd washes over him, and she struggles to suppress her fight-or-flight instincts. She doesn’t need to lose him. He’s not after her. But he’s taking way too long and she doesn’t trust him that much yet, so she tenses.

She takes a step back in his direction and he almost topples over her. There’s a red carnation in his hand and he offers it to her with a goofy grin. She bites back a handful of snappy retorts and simply rolls her eyes. She doesn’t ask where he got it.

* * *

Summer in New York is what hell must be like, she tells him one August evening and he laughs boisterously. Their legs swing over the rooftop of his building and despite the sticky, damp air, she feels relaxed. She catches herself mid-exhale and sneaks a look at him. When did she get so comfortable around him? It’s not safe. She pulls away slightly from where they’re almost touching, despite the heat that surrounds them every minute of every hour. She reaches for the beer on her other side only to find it already unpleasantly warm and sighs in frustration.

He’s holding up a new bottle for her when she looks up and she takes it wordlessly, trading it for the old one, which he secures into the cooler for later when this happens again.

She wonders when exactly he learned to read her so easily.

* * *

If she had to pick a favourite season, she would go for autumn. Maybe it's the colours, maybe it's the crunch of the leaves that alert her of everyone else’s location, maybe it's the perfect balance of last warm sunrays and first cold winds, the freshness of it, as ironic as that sounds.

She takes a deep breath and turns around, and he’s there with a paper cup of hot tea, if she has to guess. She’s let him get to know her too well and she doesn’t even know how he keeps sneaking past her defences. It’s too late to stop him.

Instead, she takes the cup gingerly and watches him in wonder as he takes off his lid and slurps the obviously too hot coffee. She has seen him drink enough questionable liquids to be surprised by the foam on top, so it’s only logical to raise a questioning eyebrow at him. He shrugs and tells her that if he’s paying for overpriced coffee, he might as well get the fancy kind. He’s not wrong, she supposes.

Absentmindedly, she reaches over to wipe away the bubbles off the corner of his mouth and realizes what she’s doing when her thumb is already pressed right next to his lip.

She turns around abruptly and starts walking.

* * *

When winter rolls around again, her probation is finally over and she gets to go on her first mission – undercover – with the idiot who saved her ass barely a year ago. She suspects she would have to return the favour sooner rather than later. They even have a name – Strike Team Delta. She doesn’t ask who Alpha, Betta and Gamma are. It’s irrelevant.

It doesn’t exactly go south, but it’s close. They need to avert the enemy’s attention and there is one tactic she knows works every time. She pulls him in the middle of the crowd and pushes up on her tiptoes.

* * *

The seasons turn.

And again.

And again.

They don’t stop at just one kiss anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [ohwriteiforgot](https://ohwriteiforgot.tumblr.com)


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